The Last Man
by Queen Luana
Summary: Alistair is hurled into the Fade, and slowly loses his grip on what's real and what's not.


**Queen Luana:** This is a one shot that came to mind after playing one of the side quests in Dragon Age 2 for the umpteenth time, where Hawke enters the Fade to save Feynriel and one by one her comrades fall prey to the demons' lies. This takes place a few years after the Warden and Circle Mage Lale gave her life to slay the archdemon. I wrote this with _The Last Man_ by Clint Mansell in my head. The sentiment of this short story is also largely based on that of _The Fountain_.

* * *

Alistair blinked and immediately remembered his surroundings as those of the Fade. He slowly rose to his feet. As always, the area was a familiar one. He was standing in the entrance hall of Arl Eamons estate in Denerim. He smiled for a moment, knowing well enough that it had burned down years ago when the darkspawn had invaded the capital. Yet here it was, rebuilt from dreams and mementos to once again be the great mansion right off of the Denerim Market.

Something was off though. He'd been in the fade before, long ago when their quest for gathering allies to battle the archdemon had brought them to the Circle of Magi. He'd encountered his sister there and even though all had seemed swell, something at the back of his head had been gnawing, telling him that something was wrong.

The uneasy feeling was nowhere to be found now. He felt strangely at peace. The only thing that slightly worried him was the fact that he could not for the world remember why he was here, what had brought him to this dream realm once more. He racked his brains but to no avail. For the longest time he just stood there, gazing around, wondering. He started off at the latest clearest memory he had. The slaying of the archdemon. It was an unpleasant one to begin with, but he needed a starting point and everything that followed was a hazy blur. He had traveled to Highever after that, to give Duncan a proper funeral. Had he gone alone? He was certain he had, though in his mind's eye he recalled a figure at his side. After that he'd traveled to Orlais to rejoin the other Grey Wardens. He vividly remembered the lonely nights on the road. But for some reason, that figure was there again. Silent and nearly out of sight, nothing more than a shadow, but present nonetheless, ever at his side.

Alistair stepped forward, slowly and alert. As he placed one foot forward he kept a keen eye on the world around him, looking for a shadow, a foreboding glimpse. Surely the Fade had begun playing tricks on his mind already. If only he'd remember why he was here. He walked up the stairs, taking in everything of the fake mansion. It all seemed real enough. He ran his fingers across the stones in the wall, the cold granite left a trace of dust on his fingertips. It was a trick anyone would fall for. He turned at the top of the stairs to the guest chambers, where they had all stayed during their preparations for the Landsmeet. He didn't know why, but felt as if something beckoned him. Friend or foe, he did not know, but he obeyed. He remembered the servants chasing down the Mabari hound through the hallways after he'd stolen a ham from the larder. He remembered sneaking into her room during the night, where she'd pretend to already be asleep in bed, but smile when he planted a kiss on her forehead.

He stood still in the doorway of what had been her room. Most of all he remembered the simple happiness, even in the darkest of times. He walked inside and sat down on the bed, running his finger tips across the delicate linen. The estate was more a reminder of everything before the Blight ended than anything else to him. How often he had wished for it to end.

Then there she was.

He hadn't seen her at first and so did not know how long she'd been standing there smiling at him. But she was there, almost radiant, leaning against the doorway, wearing the robes he remembered. When he caught her face he jumped to his feet and staggered backwards in shock. "Stay back, demon," he muttered searching his body for a weapon and realized he had none.

This only caused her smile to broaden and she stepped inside towards him as he backed further and further away from her, until his back touched the wall.

"Stay back," he pleaded. But she looked so real. Every freckle and strand of hair was exactly the same. The darkness of her eyes and the paleness of her skin were the right shade. She walked the same and that look she gave him, that look… He squeezed his eyes shut. He urged his mind to accept that she was nothing more than a simple projection of his memories of her, manipulated by a demon of some sort. He was better than this. He knew not to be fooled by these dark tricks.

He opened his eyes again, expecting her to be gone or to have changed into her demon form. She was still there. But she had not come closer. Instead she was still standing at the end of the bed. His heart began to flood with memories of the nights at camp and of their battles and of their nights. These were the work of a demon, the only goal being to make him vulnerable and drop his guard. She raised a hand as a friendly invitation to come closer and he held his breath.

A single tear rolled down his cheek. "It should've been me," he whispered.

She smiled feebly and shook her head.

"I should've dealt the final blow." He placed a hand over his eyes. "You shouldn't have left me behind at the gates, I should've been there with you. If nothing else I should've been by your side when it all ended."

Her expression saddened when she saw him cry and she lowered her hand again.

He did not know what had driven him into the Fade, but he wished with all his heart he hadn't come. He gasped when he felt her hand stroke his cheek. She was standing inches away from him now, frowning with worry and sadness. The deception was perfect.

She took his hands. Hers were pleasantly warm and soft. They lied down in bed together. He ran a hand through her hair, remembering how it had felt when they'd lied down together during the cold nights in Orzammar and he had hugged her close until his chin was resting on her head and her face was buried in his neck. Hesitantly he pulled her closer to him and peered into her eyes. She looked so much like her. And for the first time he allowed himself to believe that maybe it truly was her.

"Even if it is all a lie," he muttered, his mouth strangely dry, "I will gladly believe."

Saying this cast a smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled with tears and when one escaped and ran down her cheek, he wiped it away with his thumb.

"I missed you," he whispered and leaned in to kiss her. The moment their lips touched he forgot. He forgot he was in the Fade, forget she was just an illusion summoned by a demon in order to take over his mind and body. The tightness in his chest opened and peacefulness washed over him. According to him, the Blight had ended, and she was still with him. This was his reality now, and he happily accepted it.

* * *

**Queen Luana:** I was considering giving it a back-story and providing the reason why Alistair was sent into the Fade. However, I felt as though that would only interfere with the atmosphere I wanted to create and thus decided to keep it short and simple.


End file.
